


Chilaquiles for Two.

by vaultfox



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: AU - Everyone lives, Cassian is the best cook in the galaxy, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 05:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9705497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaultfox/pseuds/vaultfox
Summary: This was written for tumblr user Blackcanarydinah as part of TheRebelCaptainNetwork Valentine's Day exchange.Echo Base reminds them of home, not the one they’d come to find in each other, but the one's from which they were born. Cassian from Fest and Jyn on Vallt. Their morning’s have finally become routine, until one morning Cassian wakes a little too hungry, and decides to share a piece of his past with Jyn.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mimozka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimozka/gifts).



> This was written for tumblr user Blackcanarydinah as part of TheRebelCaptainNetwork Valentine's Day exchange.  
> Her prompt for me was: anything as long as its fluffy. I just want a fluffy fic that aggressively ignores the movie canon.
> 
> Hopefully I delivered. :D

If there was one thing about Hoth that Cassian enjoyed, it was how it reminded him of Fest.

There was a time in his life when that would have been a bad thing, the memories too dark and clouded with guilt to smile back upon. But twenty years had passed, and there were plenty more deeds to clutter his mind. With each passing day on Echo Base, new memories of his home world would flood his thoughts, his dreams --- if he was lucky enough to have those. Hoth was icy, cold, and sparsely populated. The same could be said about Fest, at least the parts he remembered. There weren’t many children around on either, and the nights were long, only bearable by sharing body heat with another.

Cassian’s eyes were trained on the ceiling of their quarters, wide awake, Jyn’s steady breaths the only noise he could hear. Just like the morning before.

Alright, so maybe there were _two_ things about Hoth that Cassian enjoyed.

 

* * *

 

 

Waking next to her, curled up around his  shoulder, her warm breaths tickling the stubble of his jaw. Some mornings he would even be privy to an arm clutching his chest, pulling him as close as she could. Others, he’d wake to a puddle of drool on his chest and the sound of Jyn smacking her lips occasionally. And on rare occasions, her back would be towards him, but her hand would always be slung back, entangled with his own.

No two mornings were the same with Jyn. He figured after so many years of sleeping with one eye open, she was testing the waters, each night a new sleeping position. Perhaps he had been too, unfamiliar with how to truly relax, to trust another in such a state of vulnerability ---- well, one without circuits at least. He would have asked Jyn that, if he slept funny, talked in his sleep or woke up in an odd position, if she were ever the one to wake first.

As it stood though, old habits simply wouldn’t die. Cassian was always the first to wake, no matter the circumstances. He’d dipped into bed hours after her more than he could count, and he would still be wide awake a good hour before she grew conscious. It didn’t bother him though. She was peaceful in sleep, almost ethereal, the hard lines of her face softened and brows eased, an easy smile lining her lips. It was a face so unlike Jyn and _so_ like her at the same time. It reminded him of the life he hoped, no --- he _knew_ they could have, someday. One without war, without the Empire. Just the two of them, sleeping, the biggest worry plaguing their minds deciding what they would have for breakfast that morning.

Now that he thought of it, he _was_ starting to get a bit hungry.

His free arm fumbled for the datapad on the table beside him, the other tangled behind Jyn. Her nose pushed up against his shoulder, and he heard a whine of frustration as he moved. Carefully, he brought the datapad to the side of his chest and turned it on, light facing away from her so as not to rouse her.

 _6:00AM_ \---- The commissary wouldn’t be open for another two hours.

He placed the datapad down, squeezing Jyn instinctively before blowing out a sigh, eyes focused on the ceiling. She curled her fists closer to herself, then outstretched an arm across his own chest. He let himself rub the back of her hand with his thumb, slow and careful over each knuckle. She pulled him closer in response and his head rolled to the side, their foreheads resting on one another.

She never wanted to be this close when she was awake, shying away from any kind of public affection. The base hardly knew they were intimate, aside from the occasional glance or brief handhold. But in sleep, he knew what she truly wanted, what she _needed._

It felt good to be able to give that to her, at least.

He closed his eyes again, feeling every small twitch of her body against his. She was on fire, the heat of her skin permeating through his own, warming him down to the bone. He counted himself lucky for having the warmest blanket on Echo Base. He tried to force it this time, to go back to sleep. He counted each of her breaths, trying to match his to hers. He almost made it to eleven, but the rumble storming his stomach had a different agenda.

Carefully, he weaved himself out from her grip. The hardest part was always her head, carefully shifting it from his shoulder onto her pillow. Though, the more morning’s he did this, the more he thought this woman could sleep through pretty much anything. He was _almost_ envious of it, wished he could learn how to sleep through so much noise and jostling, but deep down he knew there would come a time when his light-sleeping would save them in the field.

He stood next to the bed and pulled on his tunic and pants, then sat down in an open chair to put on his boots, stealing a glance up at Jyn between securing them. She was burrowed in on herself, obviously noting the absence at her side, but her eyes still remained closed, darting wildly under her eyelids.

For a moment, he simply watched her ---making sure her face remained even, her brow relaxed and breaths deep and steady. When he was certain a nightmare wasn’t coming, he made to stand and shrugged on his layers, finishing with his blue jacket. He rummaged through the food rations in the small chest next to their bunk and pulled out what he needed.

With the precision of a lockpick, he exited the room as quiet as he could. Once the door clicked into place behind him, he exhaled in relief and hurried his way down to the community cooking area.

 

* * *

 

 

Jyn could count on one hand the things she enjoyed about Hoth, the climate surprisingly being one of them. To her, it brought back memories of Vallt, her birth planet. While she hadn’t spent long there, the memories fuzzy and unclear at times, the biting cold at her face somehow reminded her of a life that was simple, one that for whatever reason made sense. A time, a place where they enjoyed the snow, enjoyed _life_ instead of simply surviving.

She remembered her mother, making sure all of her limbs were protected and warm. Her father would carry her out to the biggest snow mound they could find and let her slide down it. Then her mama would scold her papa from afar, and her papa would simple laugh and whisper, “She’ll never trust me with you, Stardust, will she?”

It was a memory she’d somehow kept safe, far away from the misgivings life had thrown her way.

There were nights she’d sleep sandwiched between her parents, woken by gentle forehead kisses from her mother or tickles from her papa. The cold offered an odd comfort to her. She could handle the cold, layers could always be added, but there were only so many that could be shed.

But mornings were always the worst, those never got any easier. Jyn would ignore the outside world, enjoying the furnace she’d crafted for herself throughout the night. She’d crawl under the blankets, only perking up once the sun shined through their dorm’s viewport.

But this morning, she woke shivering. It wouldn’t have been the first time she woke to Cassian gone, probably wouldn’t be the last. The first few times it happened she nearly broke down in tears, panicked thoughts suffocating the rational ones like _‘maybe, just maybe he only went to the refresher’_ only to be overcome with the intense fear that he’d never returned from a mission or briefing even though she _knew_ he’d fallen asleep with her the night before.

She’d forced those thoughts from her mind by now.

They simply had different sleep patterns. While she could sleep endlessly, perhaps too much, he was the opposite. Always restless, itching and eager to work. She figured it was a byproduct of his years as a spy, even when he had the chance to sleep, could calm his mind enough to nap a few hours, his brain would simply refuse to disconnect.

Jyn brought a hand to where he’d been sleeping and noticed it was still warm. She could see the indent of his head in the pillow where it’d been, probably moments prior. She smiled and drew herself closer to his side of the bed, curling up into the residual warmth. Cassian would come back soon, as he always did, and she would scold him for working too hard and to come back to bed.

Mostly because she worried about him, worried he worked too much --- but she’d never let him know that, instead claiming she simply wanted her personal heater back. _  
_

It was their morning ritual. A constant. Something she’d allowed herself to appreciate after twenty years of uncertainty. Her eyes slipped closed as she cradled herself against Cassian’s pillow, breathing in his scent as she fell back asleep, quick as she had woken.

 

* * *

 

 

The second time Jyn woke that morning was to the sound of clattering metal and whispered curse words. She blinked slowly, pulling the covers off of her face to find a bundled, shadowy figure next to the bed. It was early for him to be back, not that she minded. She rolled over and yawned, trying to meet his eyes in the dark.

“Morning,” she whispered.

“ _Kriff,_ Jyn,” Cassian said in a fluster. “---- sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s alright,” she mumbled, a hint of sweetness in her tone. “What are you doing up? This is early, even for you.”

He ignored her question and continued to clean up after his mess, kicking the door shut behind him. His shoulders were a hard line, tense with nerves. She’d never seen him so unsettled by a simple question, especially one she’d asked him almost daily.

“Hey,” she started, leaning against the headboard with her body still wrapped in the covers. “ I know you like to work in the mornings, it’s quiet. I get it.”

Cassian’s back was still to her, what she could make out at least. Still busying himself with a platter, he wouldn’t budge, not so much as glance over his shoulder. She was growing impatient, mostly due to the space beside her, empty and cold that he was perfectly capable of filling.

“Come back to bed,” she pressed, flicking the light on beside her. As she did, Cassian let out a grunt, scrambling to hide items behind his back as he turned to face her. If she didn’t know better, she’d sworn the grunt was one of pain.

But instead, when she searched his eyes, he looked ---- _worried?_

Jyn’s mouth dropped as her eyes searched the rest of him. He had on his typical Hoth layers of course, but there was something … different. His hands were covered with what looked to be oven mitts, and underneath his blue jacket and layers there was what seemed like --- an apron?

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, mouth open in wonder. Probably too long as Cassian broke the silence for them.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah --- yeah of course. Are you?”

“I uh --- wanted to surprise you,” he said, almost too fast. “ I was hungry and well,” he turned to pick up the tray next to him, sitting it down on the open space of the bed.

She looked down at the tray of food in surprise. It was too --- perfect, too clean. Not slop slung on a tray or bowl of broth prepared by a droid but a real, homemade meal. How long had it been since she had a meal not prepared by machine? Lah’mu? And for Cassian, how long had it been for him? Did he even remember a meal not eaten in a mess hall?

Her hands moved slowly, afraid to touch anything for fear of ruining it. There were two cups of steaming caf, linen napkins folded alongside two bowls of food. Two huge bowls, full of scrambled eggs, cheese and --- something else, something she couldn’t quite ascertain. Whatever it was, it looked and smelled delicious, and she wasted no time in indulging in a bite.

“Chilaquiles,” Cassian finally breathed. He removed his jacket, mitts and boots, slipping onto the bed next to her. “My mother used to make them all the time for breakfast.”

Jyn balanced the tray in her lap, covers still wrapped around her shoulders as she stuffed another bite into her mouth. She looked up at him with a half-smile, “Surprised you could find rations for a traditional Festian dish here.”

“You forget how many contacts I have in the galaxy,” he reached for a cup of cap, knuckles brushing the folded blankets surrounding her knee.

“Well, it was worth whoever you had to know to get it.”

“I like to think so,” he took a small bite from her bowl. “How do you like it?”

“Been awhile since I’ve had food with an actual flavor,” she grinned, downing another bite.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Cassian stole another mouthful as Jyn glared. “I believe you have your own?”

"I guess," he responded by taking another bite, “yours just … looks better.”

“You _made_ it, Cassian.”

“So _I_ get to eat whatever I like.”

“I don’t think it works that way, Cassian.”

“Sure it does,” he placed his caf on the table beside them and slipped under the covers, scooping his own bowl into his lap. He looked her square in the eye as a smirk flashed from his lips. “Festian custom.”

“Oh stop,” Jyn slapped his shoulder lightly. “Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s true!” he feigned pain and rubbed at where she’d struck. “Would I _ever_ lie?”

She cocked a brow, suppressing a laugh with another bite of food.

They sat in a shared silence, Jyn occasionally making noises he’d come to acknowledge as content. When he heard the fork clatter in her bowl, he took it from her grasp, setting it to the side with the rest of their breakfast.

“There _is_ one more custom,” he coughed, piecing himself beside her on the bed. “You’re supposed to … you know---”

His words trailed off, turning to meet her eyes, then falling to her lips.

“Do what, Cassian?” She mocked, half-heartedly.

“Kiss the cook.”

“Is that so?” She laughed, but pulled him closer. “Are there any holograms to validate this custom?”

“Nope, just my word,” he smiled, his eyes falling to her lips.

He ducked his chin under her neck, peppering her with soft kisses. She felt his arms wrap behind her, grasping at the blankets to pull her in closer, finding purchase at her shoulders. He kissed along the angle of her jaw, nipping at her ear softly, mumbling something in basic that jumbled quickly into something else. He stilled and pulled back, letting his gaze drop down to her lips again, a breath from his own.

He felt her breath hitch, finding her eyes gazing at his own with a fondness he knew he didn’t deserve. She licked her lips and bit down at the edge of them, feeling his heart kickstart against his ribs.

“I guess I can trust that,” she whispered, “coming from you,” and a warmth stretched throughout his chest, her kiss breathing fire deep into his lungs.

 

* * *

 

 

_If there was one thing they enjoyed about Hoth ... it was how it reminded them that they were home._


End file.
